The bus comes to a halt, the driver pressing his foot on the breaks; his ankle tired of the repetitious action. The once accelerated, vicious vehicle slows to a soft, gentle pace. As it's wheels glide beside your wandering feet, your eyes break the long stare with your steady stomping, and you raise your drooping head. No longer facing-downward, wind in your face, eyes squinted, walking one with the threatening yet mighty, metallic machine;
you feel it.It's night time, the street lights send strong yellow beams to guide the otherwise dark sidewalk. The roads are clear; the cars recede to the safety of their heated garages. Your droopy head; still admiring the motion of the two feet beneath it. Through the yellow beams, the buzzing lights, a soft, gentle, blue glow illuminates your pathway. As you peer up at the subtle composed light, your body frozen in place, not a moving object in sight, through all the bright yellow lies, your eyes locked to the quiet, forgotten moon;
you feel it.It's a feeling that I cannot describe.
Perhaps it's those moments, where one stops, glides, speeds, slows, looks up, looks out, and feels
alive.
Or perhaps it's those moments where one remembers how
dead they feel inside that droopy, dangling head of theirs.
Define
alive; is it a beating heart, a moving limb, a nodding head?
When life is no longer about living,
feeling,
When life is about routine, duties, money,
When it's just a game, a competition, a fight to the top,
When we become zombies, with drooping heads, beating hearts,
When we look in the mirror and turn away in disgust,
When we think because we are told, live lives that were once lived,
are we living?
are we really
alive?
will you be a winner?
Take a walk, elevate your heavy head, breath in, then out,
and most importantly; take nothing more with you than your own two fee
t.
Do you feel it?
